


Winter's Awakening and Summer's Last Dance

by sorcererinslytherin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Equinox dance, M/M, NSFW, Samhain, The Winter King - Freeform, ending of the summer and transformation into the winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorcererinslytherin/pseuds/sorcererinslytherin
Summary: Summer has come to an end and The Summer King knows he must soon dance with The Winter King and cede his authority as the Wheel of the Year turns slowly on. This does not have to be a sad, bloody affair, however, and Gavin looks forward to his time with Ryan. They may only meet twice a year, but they are two sides of the same coin, and their meetings always have a certain... fire that he craves.Heavy influence taken from the Samhain Fire Festival put on in Edinburgh every year.





	Winter's Awakening and Summer's Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Freewood Fae AU. Somewhat NSFW [implied].
> 
> Heavy influence taken from the Samhain Fire Festival put on in Edinburgh every year. The fight between the Summer and the Winter Kings are put on in full detail on top of Calton’s Hill every Samhain and Beltane. Someday I’ll get to go! 
> 
> Unedited. Wrote at work to allow this plot bunny to give me some peace, it’s been plaguing me for days now. 
> 
> Word Count: 1,899

Gavin knows that his time as King is waning. He sits upon his throne, made of twined branches still sprouting their green leaves even as a subtle chill drifts through the air, and he knows. This happens every time, this ending, another turn in the Wheel of the Year, but he likes it not. His Revelers still dance in the green pasture sprawled out in front of him, some sleeping where they had fallen in their dance, some curled up by his feet against the throne. His Children, his Merry-Makers, they depended on him and his Season for their joy. 

They’d all be gone soon. The winter’s chill was in the air, every once in a while it’d drift past his nose, the smell of leaves turning crisp as his Counterpart’s energy started to gather like the rays of sun upon his own golden skin. 

Soon he as the Summer King would have to meet the Winter King yet again. They would dance and they would part and hopefully be able to settle into yet another Turn without needless bloodshed. 

Gavin smiles gently - almost a smirk upon his pretty face - as he thinks of the last meeting of him and the Winter King. He had won that battle during the last Beltane festivities, when his forces triumphed over the Winter Kings’ last energy. It was almost tragic to look upon his Counterpart during their last meeting - the man was almost entirely depleted of his Ethereal Energies by that point. But he had given quite a show, even as he had laid beneath Gavin and gazed up at him.

Perhaps it was not love. Love was a pitiful, Mortal thing. It was not one for their dances, for their frolicking and merry-making. But Gavin got something out of his meetings with his Counterpart, a feeling of Oneness when they made love and ceded something of their power to the other.

In days long past, they used to fight with blades and sharpened sticks. Used to draw blood and fight for supremacy. But the Wheel of the Year turned unceasingly and who were they to argue with Fates far more powerful than Themselves? So they turned to a different battlefield, a game of power and control between two Beings far greater than the sum of their parts. 

One of them always ended up on Top and won that seasons’ battle. The other would fade distantly away when they finished, ceding the power and energy to the other. Then they’d have a season of Revelry and merry-making until the other came back to capture their time again. 

Gavin did wonder what the other King did during his turn around the Wheel, but he was forbidden to witness such times. Summer did not live long on a crisp Winter morn. 

If the Revelers looked upon Gavin in this time, seeing a languidly golden man draped across a Summers’ throne, they’d see a King with no worry or care across his face, a golden crown of sunlight across his brow. They’d say he was oblivious to his coming loss even as the rest of them know that they cannot dance forever. All good times must come to an end and they must cede the lands to those of the Hearth.

But as summer grows overripe, almost hyperactive in its dying breath, a plentiful harvest stored away for the darker times, Gavin - The Summer King - looks over the fields and hills and valleys to the sea cliffs where he knows his Counterpart, his Lover, his Other Half is starting to stir.

–

As the cold air starts to gather across the dark sea cliffs, the Caillech - the Earth Mother, Triple Goddess - sends the Voice of the Sea to wake Ryan from where he slumbers deep within the earth, in a land where the Sunlight cannot taint the pale white skin of his form, mar his sleeping body as it awaits the new land.

He sleeps not, instead he is in almost a trance. Waiting, day by day, gathering his Energies slowly as the Summer King revels and dances overhead. Somewhere deep inside, he knows his Other Half is enjoying Himself wildly as he dances and lays with women and men and the genderless beings of the woods and the wind. He almost smiles. His roguish Counterpart never could resist an ounce of fun.

His winged Valraven, the keepers of The Hearth, his protective guard, are the ones who guide him back to his Body and Life as the sun and the night share equal times in the Sky. The air is crisp across his nose and kisses his cheeks with red blotches. He grins truly now, taking his first breath of air since he had laid back and allowed The Summer King to claim his rightful spot. The memory dances across his newly formed body and he hums in almost pleasure.

Sated, filled with a wild, uncontrollable energy he could hardly control, he knows it is almost His Time to live and to dance with the snow as it covers this Summer world in a blanket of white. Until blood looks sharp and vivid across a snowy landscape, until the air burns in his lungs in a way that reminds him - for now - he is vividly, sharply Alive. 

It is almost his Time to rise, to take back what is rightfully His. All he has to do is mount that arrogant, wild-eyed little Fae Summer King and steal the last of his breath into his own lungs. A dance they were both willing to do. He’d look forward to having that brat underneath him this time.

Although, he does allow himself a brief moment of fondness. For whatever they were as Enemies, they Balanced each other nicely, two sides of the same Wheel. He would enjoy their meeting. What was he to tell himself… he always did. Even when it was him giving up the ghost and allowing the other his reign Supreme?

However, the world for now is not his own. His Court had not yet been summoned. He is alone in a world that is turning slowly towards his power, but The Summer King has not yet ceded his grip on the land. He is alone. Solitary as he moves out of the sea cliffs and towards the Forest Wood where the Summer King tends to spend his time.

He feels the other’s Energies like a beacon, leading him towards the Meadow where they always have their last stand. Where before blood used to eagerly soak into the parched ground, now their sweat and lust do so instead. This is a far sweeter battle. And a far more satisfying one.

For as he says, they are not Enemies, not truly. They are two sides of the same coin, one cannot be without the other. Lovers, if such a mortal word could even apply.

He senses the Call and follows it blindly as the leaves beckon him Orange and Red and a delightful chill runs down the pale unmarked skin of his back.

–

For Ryan, The Winter King, it seems like hardly any time has passed since he saw The Summer King’s visage across this Meadow. Last time, the Summer King had won. But now it was his turn and he gives a feral smile as he sees the other standing, his retinue surrounding him at first and then fading into the mist.

It was Samhain. It was the time that the dark would triumph against the Summer. For the world to die and be reborn again, for the Cleansing to take place. This was the time that Ryan would rise. 

He steps forward, bowing gracefully, sweeping his arms in a gesture that shows off the hearty life in his new form. He’s muscly again, a striking figure as he stands, unclothed and ready for their dance.

The Summer King approaches warily. He knows this is the end of him and he casts aside the Vestements of his power - first the cloak of leaves he wears across his slender golden shoulders and then his resplendant golden Sun Crown.

They meet each other not as Kings, but as equals. 

“Ryan,” Gavin speaks, voice radiating across the meadow. It shakes not with arrogance or with fear, but instead with warm pleasure. “My King. It has been much too long.”

“And you, my little King,” Ryan says, bowing to him gracefully. “I have long slumbered. Have you fun with your Season? Made merry? Danced freely? Had all others bow to your Splendor and bless the Harvest you provided?”

Gavin smiles almost wickedly. “Yes. It has been quite fun.”

“Good,” Ryan says, almost tenderly. He does not begrudge his fellow King his frolic. They were allowed to do as they pleased during their time. “You look tired.”

“The dance is done and I am seeking my bed,” Gavin answers truthfully. He does not shine so bright as the first time we had seen him, that is true. His golden light seems faded. It is time for Summer to die for Winter to rise.

“I shall allow that to happen, little one,” Ryan purrs gently and then pulls Gavin into a hungry kiss. Their energy surges as they meet between them, Winter King meets Summer King in their battle form, fighting with tongue and teeth the way they used to with sword and steel. Gavin’s power surges for one last night of lust and pleasure, fighting with him as if they didn’t know how this was going to end.

Making it fun for the time they had. This was always the most supreme pleasure, the most bubbling of joy, as their energies fit together perfectly in the sweetest ecstasy. They dance with one another, true dance as the winter’s melody of the Wind mixes with the rustling of Gavin’s dying leaves. 

Then they fall to mate as One, Ryan on top of Gavin as he will take his energy as his own. They cry out but don’t protest, drinking what they can from each other, taking every ounce of pleasure they could in the last night of Togetherness they’d get before the end of the Winter season and the start again in the Spring, on some far off Beltane Ryan didn’t want to rush.

As they end, panting, Ryan steals a gentle kiss from Gavin’s lips. “Thank you, Summer King,” he says formally, and then breathes a gentle whisper into Gavin’s ear as the other shudders for breath as he comes down from his high. “Thank you, Gavin, my beauty.”

Gavin smiles at him and one golden hand brushes Ryan’s white marble cheek. “Be well and make merry,” he purrs before he fades away.

Ryan stands, brushing the leaf detritus off his body and takes the cape from where it was discarded on the forest floor. Instead of leaves, it was now the pine needles of the evergreen trees. The crown is moonlight and Holly, placed upon his brow.

He stands, resplendent in the moonlight, and sends one more gentle look at the spot where the Summer King had faded away before he crows his triumph to the sky and calls his Winter Court.

It was the start of his short life and by god, would he live it to the fullest.

_Like the Summer King had bid._


End file.
